by APRIL FLOYD
As the carriage hurried along further and further from Longbourn, Elizabeth found comfort in her recollection of her walk in the garden with Mr. Darcy and his mother. Her life had seemed perfect only a few short weeks ago. How could she accept her cruel cousin and the horrible life she would lead with such a man?
She decided she would not cease her efforts at escape. Not while there was breath left in her body. Should Jane be successful in sending for Mr. Darcy and his mother, they would mount an attempt to free her from the horrid man. But she must not wait upon them and readily endure the vile presence of William Collins.
Their next stop was his cottage in Hunsford where he led her upstairs to remove the dust of the road from her dress and wash her face. “We shall go directly to meet Lady Catherine. You must not appear as a poor girl from the streets of Town.”
Elizabeth was terrified he might follow her into the small room but he merely stood outside the door, closing it behind her as she entered. She glanced about the sparsely furnished room and hurried to a small writing desk in the corner, hope returning to her eyes as she saw the means to make a letter to Jane.
She wrote swiftly and hurried to do as her cousin commanded. His footsteps pacing the hallway just outside the door left her trembling with fear. There was no one to stop him entering and placing his hands upon her. Elizabeth eyed the pitcher by the basin marking it as a weapon did her situation come to that.
Moments later, with the letter tucked safely into her pocket, she opened the door and cast her eyes to the floor. Mr. Collins inspected her from head to toe and sent her downstairs to sit with Cook whilst he made himself ready to visit Rosings. “Do not attempt escape, my dear. The footman stands at one door and the driver at the other.”
Elizabeth simply nodded although her temper demanded she strike him and take her chances with the men at the doors. Instead, she walked slowly down the stairs and turned at the sound of footsteps approaching. “You must be the parson’s betrothed. I am Mrs. Watts, the Cook for Mr. Collins. Come with me and I shall feed you, miss.”
Elizabeth followed the woman, wondering at her kindness. Her cousin must not have shared his plans to kidnap her from her home with his Cook.
She took the pie the woman offered and ate ravenously. Her fear and her cousin’s disregard had kept her from eating on the horrible trip to Kent and she was grateful to the woman.
“We are off to Rosings in but a moment, I fear,” she said as Cook took her empty plate. “I wondered if you might post this letter for me. My dearest friend is away visiting relatives and I was unable to write her before we left Hertfordshire.”
Cook took her letter and placed it on a small table by the back door with several others. “I must go into the village myself on the morrow. It shall be no bother, miss.”
Elizabeth smiled and thanked the woman for her kindness. She startled in her chair as the sound of her cousin’s heavy foot upon the stairs darkened her small reprieve.
9
Jane received a hastily written missive from Hunsford more than a week after Elizabeth had been taken from Netherfield. Her hands shook as she opened the letter and stepped away from her father’s bedside.
He had been at Netherfield in a guest room since the night of the ball. His heart was still weak but the doctor from London had said he would recover in time. Jane doubted her father would be the man he was before that night, but she dared not share such sentiment with her mother.
Mrs. Bennet was quartered in the room next to her husband as her nerves required the attention of Mr. Jones, the apothecary. Between the arguments of her younger sisters and Mary’s incessant attention to the pianoforte in the parlor, Jane could find no quarter save the gardens. She longed to return to Brambling Hall and a peaceful life far from her family.
She hurried down the hallway with Elizabeth’s letter and out onto a terrace that overlooked the garden. She breathed deeply and steadied her hands as she glanced to her sister’s hand upon the page.
Dearest Jane,
I must not be caught writing to you but there is much to tell. Mr. Collins has taken me against my will from Hertfordshire to Hunsford. I am to stay at Rosings Park until the day we are married.
I have attempted escape since the night he forced me into his conveyance and I shall continue these efforts until there is no other choice left to me.
I beg you to alert Mr. Darcy and his mother of this situation in hopes they might intervene on my behalf.
I hope this letter finds you before my fate is decided. I am certain mother and father could not have known the low character of Mr. Collins and of his abusive nature, for they would not have been complicit in this cruel plot.
Desperately,
Elizabeth
Jane held the letter close to her heart as anger rose in her breast. She had known her sister would not go willingly with their cousin! In their condition, there was nothing her parents might do now to save Elizabeth but surely Mr. Darcy might. She hurried to the library with the hope she might find her husband there.
Charles Bingley glanced up from his correspondence as Jane entered the library, the bright stain upon her cheeks causing him immediate concern.
He rose and met her as she crossed the room. “My dear, what has happened? Is it your father?”
Jane breathed deeply and held out the letter from Elizabeth. Her hand shook so that Bingley escorted her to the sofa and took the letter, placing it upon the table and holding her hands in his own until the trembling ceased.
“Oh Charles, you must read it now and send for Mr. Darcy!” Jane cried as her husband made soothing noises and held her closer.
“Come now, Jane. What has put you into such a state? I shall read the letter. It is not good for you to become so upset.”
Jane breathed deeply and nodded at her husband. His concern for her had grown since the night of the ball and Elizabeth’s disappearance.
Mr. Bingley retrieved the letter as he felt the tension leave Jane’s body. The business with her father and mother had put an added strain upon her and he would see they spent the evening without interruption from her sisters and mother.
Jane sat, her hands twisting slowly in the folds of her skirts while her husband read Elizabeth’s letter. Mr. Darcy would come, she was sure of it and they must send for him today. Charles stood and paced before her, his eyes returning again and again to the terrible news on the paper in his hands.
“Mr. Darcy and Lady Anne will not be pleased to know of this, of that I can assure you. Lady Catherine de Bourgh is Lady Anne’s sister, did you know?”
Jane covered her mouth with one hand, her eyes gone wide. The Darcys would surely intervene. Her voice shook as she stared at her husband. “We must send word to Mr. Darcy today. There is little time to waste. It has been a week since she disappeared and Mr. Collins will force my sister to wed as soon as he is able. You see she has sworn to escape her situation. I would go to her Charles, for I cannot remain here while she is held against her will.”
Mr. Bingley sat again on the sofa beside Jane and took her hand. “I will send an express, I give you my word. But my dearest, you shall not travel to Kent in such a state. You must trust in Darcy and Lady Anne, for they do care for Lizzy.”
Jane breathed deeply and tried to make sense of her husband’s words. The world spun around her and she sobbed as the light faded before her eyes.
* * *
Mr. Darcy raised his head at the abrupt entrance of his mother to the library. She issued orders to the butler to have their carriage brought round and sent for her maid.
“William, we must leave within the hour for Kent. Miss Elizabeth is in need of our assistance and we cannot fail her. My sister has made a terrible mistake and I will not allow it to stand.”
Mr. Darcy was out of the seat behind his desk at the mention of Elizabeth Bennet’s name. “Mother, what can you mean? What has Miss Bennet to do with Aunt Catherine and Kent?”
Lady Anne handed her son the express from Neth
erfield and turned as her maid entered the room. “Wells, go now and pack a few things for we must leave for Kent. Have a bag packed for my son as well. Do not fail me, I must be away before the hour has passed.”
Wells hurried from the room, a curt nod the only motion wasted in acknowledgment of her mistress’s demands.
Mr. Darcy read the words of his friend, his anger burning brightly in his eyes as he turned to his mother. “Miss Elizabeth would not write such to her sister were it not true. I cannot see her married to a man she does not love and certainly not to one who would take her from her family against her will.”
Lady Anne took her son’s hand and hurried to the waiting carriage outside Darcy House.
He helped his mother into the carriage, his mind racing with worry. “Mother, I should ride at once as I would cover the distance much faster alone upon my own horse.”
Lady Anne Darcy shook her head emphatically. “Miss Elizabeth shall be safe at least for another week, my sister is much too frugal to seek a special license for her parson to wed before the banns are read. Besides, I would not wait here when the young lady who rescued me from my exile requires my assistance.”
Mr. Darcy hoped his mother was correct. Lady Catherine de Bourgh would never be so wasteful, he was certain. And her sense of propriety would demand Elizabeth Bennet remain at Rosings before the wedding to quell gossip among the villagers.
Still, his anger at the Bennets and Mr. Collins left him eager to dash away at once for Kent. He would not allow his mother to travel alone and he knew she would not wait at Darcy House. Resigned to the facts, he rapped his knuckles impatiently against the roof of the carriage.
10
Elizabeth sat in the shadowy room at Rosings and stared at the window before her. If she were able to ease her way to the window while the maid dozed by the door, and lift it quietly, she might find a way down into the garden below. Evening had come and the darkness would shield her as she made her way through the woods and away from Kent.
She hoped her letter had found Jane, and she believed it might have done if Cook had been faithful. Elizabeth’s heart fell as she had little reason, aside from the woman’s kindness, to think it possible.
The maid had sat with her since her arrival at Rosings to prevent any attempts at escape. Lady Catherine de Bourgh was her cousin’s patroness and the mistress of this great estate. She had become quite angry when Elizabeth pulled free of her cousin’s grasp and ran from the entry the night of their first meeting.
“Collins, what sort of young lady have you brought before me? I have never encountered such behavior. I am not at all certain you have chosen wisely. She could not have had a governess with such poor comportment.”
Mr. Collins glanced over his shoulder at the great lady and bowed quickly. He turned away as Elizabeth screamed at the footman and driver. The men had easily caught her before she might set foot upon the road.
“Your ladyship, you are quite right about my cousin. She must learn her place in the few weeks before we are to wed. I hoped you might be of some assistance as your daughter is a perfect example of womanhood my cousin would do well to emulate.”
Lady Catherine eyed Elizabeth Bennet as the driver and footman led her back inside. “Young lady, you do a great disservice to your parents with such an outlandish display. You will be confined upstairs until you come to understand your situation.”
Lady Catherine called for a maid and sent her along with the footman to see her strange visitor to the room that would become her prison.
Balling her fists at the memory, Elizabeth glanced again to the maid by the door and crept silently to the window. She felt for the chains on either side of the sash and pulled gently, hoping the noise would not awaken the maid.
A breeze pushed against her skirts as the sash rose and Elizabeth felt a thrill in her heart. Freedom was moments away and she must hurry. She ducked her head and gathered her skirts before stepping over the sill.
The door to her room swung open and she froze in place, tears flooding her vision as the maid leapt from her chair and advanced across the room. Elizabeth scurried to pull her other leg over the sill but the maid caught hold of her skirts and pulled her roughly inside. She tumbled to the floor in a heap and the maid closed the window, muttering under her breath.
Anne de Bourgh hurried to Elizabeth and knelt on the floor beside her. She sent the maid from the room with a cross word and demanded she close the door. She turned her attention to the sobbing young woman beside her and spoke as she fished for a handkerchief in the pocket of her skirt. “My dear, what is your name and why would you risk falling from the window in the dark of night?”
Elizabeth took the handkerchief the young woman offered and turned her face away as she dried her eyes. “I am Elizabeth Bennet and I must leave this house. My cousin, William Collins, has taken me from my home and intends to marry me against my will.”
Anne gasped at this revelation and shook her head. “How have you come to be in this room under the watchful eye of that maid?”
Elizabeth stared at the young woman who was clearly not a servant. She must be related to the awful Lady Catherine de Bourgh. “Mr. Collins brought me here several nights ago, and the mistress of this house had me locked away here after I tried to escape upon making her acquaintance.”
Anne de Bourgh rose from her seat upon the floor and paced about the room. Her mother was cold and cruel, that was no secret, but to imprison a young woman at Rosings was beyond the pale. “Mr. Collins is my mother’s parson and he spoke of you during tea several weeks ago. He gave the impression of a man happily engaged and so my mother must have been quite shocked at your behavior.”
Elizabeth stood and dusted her skirts, her eyes returning to the window. An idea formed in her head and she approached the daughter of her captor. “You must help me escape. Surely you see I should not be here, not in this manner.”
Anne took Elizabeth’s hands and spoke softly. “The maid will have alerted my mother by now. I must go, but you cannot leave through that window. The fall might leave you injured, or worse, dead, and all will be for naught.”
Elizabeth pulled her hands free of the kind young woman’s grasp and hurried to the window. “I would rather be dead than married to such a horrible man. No one knows of his cruelty and meanness.”
The door burst open a second time and Lady Catherine rushed in with Mr. Collins on her heels. “See here, Collins, take her away from my home! I will not have her influencing my daughter with her horrid lies.”
Mr. Collins took hold of Elizabeth and hauled her toward the door, his eyes gone to slits in his angry, red face.
Anne de Bourgh beseeched her mother at the sight of Elizabeth being handled so roughly. “Mother, please. Let her stay with me. It would not do for her to be seen at the parson’s cottage before they are married. You must think of appearances.”
Lady Catherine eyed her daughter and halted her parson as he dragged Elizabeth into the hall. “I would rather we were done with her, but in a week’s time she will become Mrs. Collins. Miss Bennet, you will stay in my daughter’s sitting room and seek to behave as she instructs. Further attempts to disrupt my home will be met with measures you shall not find enjoyable.”
She turned to the maid and instructed her on the procurement of laudanum to be used upon their wayward guest should she be caught with even a foot outside Anne de Bourgh’s sitting room.
* * *
Elizabeth found her new prison to be well appointed with books and ample sunlight from the long windows set across the sitting room. The view from those windows pierced her heart and she ached for the freedom to flee across the grounds.
Mr. Collins weighed on her mind, but she was not made to endure his presence in the sitting room of Miss Anne de Bourgh. The maid was also absent, for the young mistress would not agree to her company and so she was left to her post outside the door.
Elizabeth was grateful for these small mercies and yet her mind wandered endle
ssly to avenues of escape. The days were passing swiftly and there was little time before her cousin would become her husband.
She glanced to Anne and admired the young woman’s dress, it was of the best material and the embroidery was of the finest hand. Elizabeth wondered at her generous spirit, so unlike her mother.
Anne looked up and smiled at her new friend and placed her book upon the table. “I wonder, and you must not answer if you do not wish, whether there is another your heart is taken with Miss Elizabeth?”
Elizabeth’s brow furrowed and she sensed a keener mind than she had just the evening before when first they met. “There is a man whose presence delights my heart, a mutual feeling I believe, but he is unaware of my situation. Had my cousin chosen one of my sisters as his wife, I might have remained in Derbyshire. His mother and I were at the beginning of a wonderful acquaintance before they left for London. ”
Anne rose, her mind busy with the answer her guest had given. She sat beside Elizabeth and considered her words. The door to the sitting room opened and the maid entered with their luncheon and sat it upon a small round table by the large windows and turned to address her young mistress. “Your mother is displeased with your insistence upon dining with Miss Bennet. She demands your presence at dinner this evening.”
Anne nodded to the maid in acknowledgment of her words and waved her away. “My mother scarcely speaks to me at dinner.”
She took Elizabeth’s hand and the two advanced to the table and sat, one gazing out the window and the other full of questions about the man from Derbyshire. “Let us share this meal, Miss Elizabeth, and speak of this man you have come to admire.”
Elizabeth turned her gaze from the window and smiled at the young woman before her. Once more she was struck by her graceful presence and accommodating manner. Where had she learned such hospitality and openness with a mother such as Lady Catherine? It must have been her governess or companion but still, would not the Mistress of Rosings demand her daughter be as sharp-tongued as herself?
